


Law and Order

by silkinsilence



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Guest Appearances by Hanzo and Jesse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9237899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkinsilence/pseuds/silkinsilence
Summary: Symmarah week snippets!Four: Three kisses.





	1. Worth Waiting For

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to do Symmarah week, but it unfortunately fell the week before finals week, so I'm doing it now instead. Hopefully it'll be a piece a day for the next seven days! Probably lots of fluff. The next longer Symmarah thing I have in mind is...ah... _not_ fluff, so I want to write lots of it now to preemptively make up for it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission is more important, even if it means canceling their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very mild background McHanzo.

At four-o'clock, the sun is beginning its descent. Gibraltar is lovely. It was a beautiful day, and it would have been perfect but for this small inconvenience.

She will not make it. That is reasonable. The missions of Overwatch are undoubtedly far more important than personal matters, and Satya resigned herself to this possibility days ago when Winston warned that this particular reconnaissance assignment might stretch into something more if the team uncovered enough information.

And they have, which is a good thing. It is good for the world that Fareeha is in Greece and not here at Gibraltar. Good for the world, but not good for Satya.

They will reschedule, she tells herself. Surely Fareeha will still want to.

But it is difficult nonetheless. The wary hope, the sinking disappointment, the resignation. After weeks or maybe months of dancing around each other, flirting that Hana described as "unbearably awkward" but that Satya quite enjoyed, sneaking glances at Fareeha and _longing_ for her...finally, after months of that, resolution.

_First date._

Not _first-_ first date. She has had others. But the first-first date with someone she likes as much as Fareeha. Someone with whom she can envision a future. Someone who is more than a curiosity, a passing interest, a date accepted because she was not sure how to turn it down.

She sits in the common room because she doesn't want to be alone. Hana isn't there to keep her company, as she's on the same mission as Fareeha, but Satya wants to be around people. If she sits in her room or the laboratory, she will brood.

(Which, all right, maybe she's doing anyway, but not as much as she would be.)

The room is quieter than usual. It is just her and Hanzo, sitting at the little table. His eyes drift up now and again to Satya. She nods when she happens to catch his gaze, and he returns the gesture. Neither speaks, but the silence is a companionable one as they both go about their work.

McCree wanders in, looking naked without his serape and chaps. He smiles to see the both of them there and clinks over (so he hasn't abandoned the spurs, then).

"Two of the base's rarest sights in one room. I'm a lucky man."

"Do not trouble Ms. Vaswani with your idle chatter," Hanzo says without looking up.

"It is no trouble," Satya says.

"See? It's no trouble," Jesse repeats, sliding into the last chair at the table and grinning at Hanzo, who still is firmly focused on the tablet. "C'mon. Whatever you're reading can't be more deservin' of your attention than I am."

"You are being insensitive," Hanzo says, looking up at last and indicating Satya with a nod of his chin.

Jesse catches on. "Ah, shit, yeah. Sorry about the mission running over. I know Fareeha was really lookin' forward to dinner."

His words become a bloom of warmth in her chest. She offers a small smile.

"We will reschedule."

"You know what they say about the best-laid plans," Jesse says.

Satya and Hanzo look at him and then at each other. Hanzo arches an eyebrow; Satya shakes her head.

"Really? You don't? Well, the saying's that 'the best-laid plans of mice and men often go astray.'"

They keep staring at him. Satya frowns.

"What do mice have to do with it?"

"Well, that's just the saying," Jesse shrugs.

"What of other animals? Do their plans not go astray?" Hanzo presses. A smirk curls up the edge of his mouth.

"What do the mice have to do with it?" Satya repeats, bemused.

"All right, all right." Jesse holds his hands up in surrender and pouts. "That's what I get for trying to share my wisdom."

"It is," Hanzo agrees, fondly pulling the hat down to cover Jesse's eyes.

Satya goes to team dinner, though she doesn't eat very much. She looks around at her friends, her _family,_ and tells herself that this is enough. She should be grateful enough for this.

At half-past eight, sitting in her room, she supposes she should cancel their reservation. She pulls up Athena's interface and requests the AI call the restaurant for her.

"I'm not so sure you'll want to do that," Athena says. Satya frowns at her screen. Such a cryptic response, not to mention the reluctance to assist, are not typical of Athena. But before she can repeat her request, there is a knock on her door.

Satya opens it, and there she is.

"Are you ready?" Fareeha grins.

There is no indication that she just came from a mission. She must have changed on the transport. Satya takes in the black dress, the hair tied back, the tattoo, and feels as if her heart might burst from her chest.

"When did you get back?" is the first thing she manages.

"We landed about five minutes ago."

"But—the mission! Didn't it run long?"

"Yes. But so what? I couldn't leave you hanging. I know you don't like changing plans. And I wanted this," Fareeha says simply, smiling.

"You abandoned the mission to—"

"No, no! We wrapped it up. There wasn't honestly that much to do. This gang was hardly Talon. They actually had a mech—no match for Hana, of course. You should have seen her taking it out."

"We can watch the footage together, perhaps." Satya can't stop smiling. She bites her lips as if to contain her happiness, to no effect.

"Are you ready to go?" Fareeha holds out a hand.

"Yes. Wait! No. I need to look nice."

"You do."

The warmth of those two words suffuses her even as she shakes her head.

"You know what I mean. I want to dress up. For you."

A few minutes later, in her room with Fareeha waiting out at the loading bay, Satya comms Amélie. The other woman appears at her door a few minutes later. Two sets of hands are better than one, especially when Satya is jittery with nervous excitement. Amélie helps comb her hair and apply eye makeup with an experienced hand. Before they both leave, she gives Satya a rare smile and tells her to enjoy herself.

When Satya makes her way out to the loading dock not twenty minutes later, Fareeha's lips part and her eyes widen. The look persists as they walk together to one of Overwatch's hovercars.

"I'm so lucky," Fareeha murmurs.

This embarrasses Satya. "No. I am lucky that you came back in time."

"Maybe we're both lucky."

They can agree on that. They smile at each other while the engine rumbles to life underneath them.

"I'm sorry I made us late," Satya says.

Fareeha waves a dismissive hand. "I surprised you. Besides, better to be late tonight than to have to reschedule."

Satya cannot agree more. In the dim light of the car as it speeds along of its own accord through the gates and down the Rock of Gibraltar, there is one thing she wants to do more than any other. _After_ the date is customary, isn't it? But...she reaches out her hands, tentative, to cup Fareeha's face.

"May I?" she asks.

Fareeha nods. She leans in. Satya pulls her down. Their noses brush. Satya can smell some cologne or perfume, faintly applied. She can see each eyelash brushing Fareeha's cheek. She can feel the heat radiating from her.

They kiss.

They will be late, but they will be together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! See you (hopefully) tomorrow.
> 
> If you're curious (as I was), the saying about the best-laid plans actually originates from a Scottish poem about the speaker crushing a mouse's hole with his plow, so that's what mice have to do with it.


	2. Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satya doesn't know how to feel about Ana, and a mission in Numbani does little to make up her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for day 2 is "family," and I wanted to explore the potential dynamic between Ana and Satya. Well, more specifically, I wanted to explore the dynamic given Fareeha's seeming ambivalence toward her mother. Don't get me wrong; I really like mother-in-law Ana doting on Satya and the two of them getting along really well. I just also feel like Fareeha's more negative feelings toward Ana tend to get overlooked.
> 
> So, uh, yeah.

Her would-be attacker is dead behind her before Symmetra realizes he was even there.

She turns at the sound of a body hitting the asphalt and sees the agent, wearing Talon gear. Blood seeps out in a slow puddle beneath him. She did not hear his approach. His death could have just as easily been her own, but fear escapes her. Dead only a few seconds, but he is already an abstract concept.

She looks skyward. The figure on the roof does not crouch out of sight quickly enough to prevent Symmetra from glimpsing the blue hijab and white hair.

She frowns.

It is a foolish impulse and one that runs counter to the mission objectives, but she wants to test her hypothesis. No, she _must_ test it. She needs to know. Otherwise her suspicion will remain suspicion, impossible to act upon but plaguing her nonetheless.

So she goes off-script, skirting the edge of the mission protocols. She sees an agent approaching her nest and makes the deliberate choice to engage him in the open, away from her turrets. For a few harried seconds of dodging gunfire she worries that the choice might prove deadly rather than simply errant, but then:

A biotic grenade from the rooftop. Her foe stumbles, curses, and her projector is upon him in an instant.

Ana ducks out of sight quickly enough this time, but it doesn't matter. Who else could it have been?

One more trial. Once more, letting her enemies closer than they should come, putting her life in the hands of a mere suspicion. But her hunch does not let her down. The woman once known as the world's greatest sniper takes down each mark.

Symmetra stands between corpses and looks at the rooftop. This time, Ana does not hide. Knowing she is caught, she stares levelly down at Symmetra, who stares back.

They remain like that until the sound of bullets from nearby breaks the spell on both of them. Ana disappears as she runs across the roof, and Symmetra pulls back to her shield generator.

She confronts Ana about it that evening. The safehouse in Numbani is modern, filled with glass and hard-angled furniture. Zarya, Junkrat, and McCree are engaged in a rousing game of poker, which Satya declines. When she catches Ana's eye from across the room and motions to the hallway, Ana stands and follows silently. They leave the three to their fun and settle in one of the bedrooms.

"You were covering me today," Satya says. It is not a question. "Why?"

Ana does not look perturbed. Satya quite likes the eyepatch; it is easy to fix her gaze on it in a simulacrum of eye contact, as she does now. In the shadows of the room, the wrinkles of Ana's face stand out to much greater relief.

"I provide backup where it is needed."

"No," Satya says, frowning. "The mission specifications clearly stated that you were to stay with Agent Zaryanova. You clearly deviated, intentionally, several times."

"The first time—"

"My life is irrelevant."

Ana blinks. There is a hint of a smile on her lips. Satya does not like it.

"With all due respect, mission specs are not everything. Zarya had her end well under control. Your sector still had active hostiles. And your life is not irrelevant."

Satya looks at her.

She does not know how she feels about this woman.

On the one hand, there is the good. A truly impressive military career; her previous stint with Overwatch, her legendary marksmanship. Indeed, on the battlefield, Ana Amari has no equal.

But the bad. Fareeha's ambivalence toward her mother defines how Satya feels about her as well. The hero-worship, for who could not admire such a woman? But also the resentment, the anger, for wounds that were opened long before Ana convinced the world and her daughter that she was dead.

The resentment lives on, unresolved, evident every time Fareeha speaks of her mother, in every overly-polite interaction between the two that Satya has witnessed.

Satya cannot walk the middle of a line; she gives respect wholly or not at all. And in Ana's case, she has tended toward the latter.

The silence stretches on. The furrow between Satya's eyebrows deepens. She does not know exactly what she wants to say.

"Be candid," Ana says eventually, with a sigh. "Ask what you want to ask."

The invitation is enough.

"Is this because of my relationship with Fareeha?"

"It may well be."

Satya bristles. "If you would invite me to speak candidly, I would ask that you do the same."

Ana just looks at her.

"Fine. Yes, it is. Happy now?"

"Fareeha would not want you to abandon mission objectives in favor of saving me."

"Fareeha would be dealt a horrible blow if you were to die on a low-stakes mission, especially if your team could have assisted you and did not."

"You think you know better than her. You think you are guarding her happiness, as you did when you refused to let her consider a military career, refused to let her learn to shoot." Satya is angry now. She doesn't like it, doesn't like the taste of copper on her tongue or the prickling at the corner of her eyes. "She is no longer a child. Afford her the respect now that you should have then."

Ana, for her part, remains expressionless.

"This is not about today."

"Not _just_."

They stare at each other, as they did earlier in the day. Mother and lover, each waiting for the other to speak. But this time there are no Talon operatives, no gunfire to break the silence. There is only Jamison's cackling laugh from the next room, and Zarya's angry Russian in response.

Then Ana smiles. Satya likes it even less than she did the first time.

"How could I not look after you? You care about her, so much. You understand her. You even sound like her—'my life is irrelevant.' And if you can bring her the happiness that I could not, for all my trying, then you are very worth protecting indeed, Satya Vaswani."

Satya feels her face flush, more with anger than self-consciousness. She doesn't know what to say. She feels like she is being spoken down to.

Before she has a chance to think of anything, Ana forestalls her.

"That's enough for tonight. It would be better to rest for tomorrow. Besides, someone needs to do something about those cards Jesse's hiding in his pocket."

She winks—or blinks? can a one-eyed woman _wink_?—and heads for the door.

She's almost all the way out when Satya realizes that she has one more thing to say.

"Thank you for covering me." It comes out grudgingly. "But I would appreciate it if you did not do it again."

Ana pauses. "I'm afraid that's a promise I can't make."

Then she goes, leaving Satya in the dark and more frustrated than when she started.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha and Satya share a morning fifteen years in the future.

She remembers what day it is almost as soon as she wakes up, which is a pity, because it would otherwise be a perfect morning. There is sun outside the windows, she's woken up before her alarm, and there is a familiar warmth snuggled against her side.

Even with her nerves, Fareeha can't help but appreciate the sight of her wife. Satya is still asleep. She lies on her side, head facing down and lips half-open. She drools a little.

She'll be forty-five in a few weeks. Fareeha has been intent in her planning of the celebration. There won't be a party—at least not one of the raucous, people-filled variety—but she's been working with Hanzo and Amélie and Hana to come up with something that Satya will enjoy.

Fareeha reaches out to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind Satya's ear. The other woman stirs under her touch before opening her eyes. She smiles when she sees Fareeha.

"Morning, **يا قمر**."

"Good morning," Satya murmurs sleepily. She wraps an arm around Fareeha's waist and wriggles even closer, burrowing her face into the crook of Fareeha's shoulder. Fareeha laughs a little at the tickling sensation.

"You have to let me get up."

"No. Stay," Satya implores. Her eyes blink shut for a few long seconds, and just when Fareeha's sure she's gone back to sleep, she opens them again. "It's early. Just a few minutes."

"All right. A few minutes," Fareeha concedes. It will, apparently, take more than fifteen years together for her to be able to say no to Satya. Besides, her alarm hasn't even gone off yet. So she scoots back to rest against the headboard and weaves her hands through Satya's hair. There are patches of silver throughout, though Fareeha knows she has much more grey than her wife. It hardly seems to matter; they're doing better hair-wise than Jack and Rein and Ana, after all, and though Gabriel's fond of hiding under his hood, Fareeha's glimpsed silvery curls there too.

"Are you nervous?" Satya mumbles. She doesn't open her eyes. Her voice rumbles pleasantly against Fareeha's stomach, where she's rested her cheek.

"Always," Fareeha admits. She doesn't think appearing in front of the U.N. will ever get easier. Her strengths are on the battlefield, not in a roomful of suits. She's picked up tips from Jack and Hana and Lúcio, but she's a soldier, not a presenter.

At least it won't be as bad as her first time. She had been on the verge of an anxious breakdown that time, and largely because of something as mundane as what to wear. The ridiculous coat she'd inherited from Jack was out of the question, and while she would have been most comfortable in her Raptora, it didn't seem entirely appropriate. In the end, she'd decided on a suit, with the Overwatch emblem pinned to the lapel and a hard-light falcon in her pocket for good luck.

"And as always, you will be incredible."

"Maybe if you give me a kiss for luck," Fareeha says, grinning.

"You don't need luck," Satya says, but contrary to her words, she still presses her lips gently against her wife's skin.

"What's on your schedule today?"

"Hmm..." Satya opens her eyes and considers for a few moments. "Jamison said he has some proposed security upgrades, so I'll look over those. Did I tell you about the fire in the workshop last week? I think this has something to do with that."

"Will I be walking through land mines on my way home?" Fareeha grins.

"Of course not. I would never approve that. ...And then drills for next week, I suppose. Hana said she's looking into a new recruit. Will you be back for team dinner?"

"Should be, unless they keep me long."

Fareeha's words are punctuated with a burst of music from the bedside table. Her alarm is one of Lúcio's songs, one that both she and Satya like, though their appreciation has, of course, diminished since they set it as their alarm. But it does its job, providing the burst of energy characteristic of his songs.

"Well," Satya sighs, sitting up and releasing Fareeha's waist, "I suppose I have to let you go, Strike Commander Amari."

"I'll be back soon enough, **يا قمر**." Before she gets up, though, Fareeha wraps her hand around the back of Satya's neck and pulls her in for a kiss. "There. Extra luck."

"You don't need it," Satya repeats, though she's smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three kisses.

Their first kiss is over in an instant. Later, Fareeha will wonder if she imagined it.

The transport has just landed back at Gibraltar. The mission was a success, but all of them are tired and ready to return to their makeshift abodes.

Not Fareeha, though. Fareeha is buzzing with energy. She glances up across the ship, catches Satya's eye, and grins. The architech returns the smile before looking away. Her visor is resting in her lap, some strands of loose hair sticking to her forehead.

It's official: they have a date. A date that Fareeha managed to procure in the very last moments of their mission, when the team was scrambling through the teleporter. She had blurted out the question like an idiot, and instead of rebuking her for the inappropriate timing, Satya had paused, considered, and given a nod.

Their teammates are getting off the ship one by one. Zenyatta, last off before the pair of them, seems to be moving slower than usual. Can an omnic be fatigued? Fareeha will have to remember to ask him later.

She's just picked up her bag and is moving toward the ramp when a gentle touch on her hand stalls her. She turns, and there Satya is. The other woman has an intense expression on her face, the kind of focus she has when building turrets.

There are warm hands, one flesh and one cybernetic, cradling Fareeha's face. She has momentarily forgotten how to move. She watches as Satya stands on her tiptoes. Her brain might short-circuit when there are warm lips pressing against her own.

It is over before she can really recover.

"Saturday?" Satya asks.

Fareeha nods eagerly. She doesn't think she can remember how to speak.

* * *

Fareeha's eyelids have been closed for days. Her arms have lain limp and unresponsive on the bedsheets. There's an IV nestled in her elbow, feeding medication into her.

She will wake soon, Doctor Ziegler has promised. She will be all right. It was the shock more than actual damage to her systems.

Satya has refused to leave her bedside. She has built herself a desk (small, practical, out of the doctor's way) so that she can still go about her work while watching for any sign of a change in her lover. Sometimes she abandons her blueprints and works-in-progress to hold Fareeha's warm hand to her chest. Sometimes the front of Fareeha's nightgown is wet when Doctor Ziegler comes out to take her vitals.

But now something is different. Fareeha has let out a groan. Her arms are twitching. Satya stands impatiently, breath held, at her side. She watches her lover's forehead crease, her lips move, and finally her eyes open.

"Satya?" she mumbles, voice slurring from the drugs.

Satya cannot stop herself; she flings her arms around Fareeha and cradles her, holding her as tight as she ever has, feeling her warm and solid and _alive._ Fareeha is _alive._ It is a fact that did not seem so certain when she lay asleep.

Her lips find Fareeha's hair and cheeks and forehead. She says _I love you_ over and over with her kisses and on her breath, repeating it in every language she knows.

"يا قمر, I can't breathe," Fareeha eventually says, her muffled voice amused.

Satya pulls back. She bites her lip and forces herself to find her composure, even if it means pretending that her cheeks aren't wet.

"How do you feel?" she asks.

"It's not a bad way to wake up," Fareeha grins.

* * *

 

The common room is full. Hana has orchestrated some sort of game tournament, the current round of which has Reinhardt and Lena intent on the screen before them as their respective pixel characters attempt to beat each other into submission. Hanzo is sulking in the corner with Jesse, both already eliminated. Angela sits at the table with Torbjörn, the former looking through paperwork and the latter loudly heckling Reinhardt.

Satya and Fareeha sit together on the couch next to the eager gamers. Satya is trying to read but not making much headway thanks to the noise around her. She would give up and just watch the chaos, but the end of the chapter is only three pages away.

Fareeha is leaning over the back of the couch to talk to Jesse. She laughs at something, and the sound makes Satya look up. Fareeha is framed by the last vestiges of sunlight pouring in through the windows. Her hair is black and golden and radiant; the sun dances in her eyes. She is smiling, and she is the most beautiful thing Satya has ever seen.

She places a hand on Fareeha's thigh to get her attention. Fareeha looks down, her laugh dying but her smile remaining.

Satya can hear her heart pounding in her ears as she leans forward. She sees Fareeha's eyes widen. They don't kiss in public; they have never kissed in public.

Except for, apparently, now.

Their lips meet, their mouths open. Satya pulls Fareeha's bottom lip between her teeth and relishes the groan that earns her. Eager to match her enthusiasm, Fareeha's tongue slips into her mouth. Her hands tangle themselves in Satya's hair.

Someone—probably Hana—wolf-whistles, but Satya doesn't care. With Fareeha, she can be brave.

"Aw, _hell,_ " Lena says, as she loses the round.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments always appreciated!


End file.
